1: Keep calm.

2: Move in an orderly fashion toward the emergency exits. If outside, move in an orderly fashion away from the place of disturbance.

3: Provide assistance to those unable to follow 2.

4: If unable to move, find a place to hide and wait for rescuers or law enforcement to arrive. Keep a low profile at all times.

5: Once contacted by law enforcement, follow their orders without question. It's for your own safety.

6: Never attempts to make contact with the Villain.

7: We're only as safe as our own judgment is sound. Don't take risks if you can avoid it.

- Tips on how to survive a Level 3 Incursion

The garbage can flew through the air. It crashed against the helicopter's windshield with a heavy clang, scattering boxes and garbage all over the glass.

Laughing, Dark hefted another garbage can and threw that too. His projectile left a trail of garbage behind as it flew, like a particularly stinky shooting star, before crashing against the helicopter's windshield.

Him emerging from the dust raised by the explosion had to have been a real surprise: the helicopter hadn't retaliated yet to his attacks.

The vehicle wobbled as another garbage can found home, probably more because of the pilot losing his grip for a moment rather than for any real damage. From where he was, Dark could barely see the cracks over the windshield.

There was a dull thud as one of the guns beneath the helicopter's wings spat.

Dark saw two canisters flying his way. He was already moving even before they touched the ground.

Bounding across the street, dragging a garbage can behind himself, he ran into the trajectory of one. He swung the can, hitting the canister like it was a baseball ball and sending it straight back.

The pilot had the quickness to swerve aside. The canister exploded beneath the helicopter's wing, the shockwave making the vehicle wobble violently. For a moment, it almost seemed it would crash against the buildings, but then the pilot managed to regain control.

Dark laughed rancorously. So he could send those nasty little things back! Sure, it could have exploded in his face, but what was life without a little risk? And even so, he wasn't even sure one of those things could hurt him right now. He felt like he could take on an army.

He grinned, glaring at the helicopter. He felt so damn good.

The helicopter's sides slid open with the sound of metal on rails. Ropes swung down from it, reaching the ground. Black-armored soldiers followed, smoothly sliding down the ropes. As soon as they touched the ground, they were spreading around, even as they pointed advanced-looking weapons at him.

Dark wasn't sure about the big rifles, but he recognized the grenade launchers.

His grin got wider. He broke into a loping run.

The soldiers started shooting. They moved even as they did so, taking disciplined formation behind abandoned cars and streetlights.

Dark flinched when the high-caliber, high-velocity bullets slammed against him, pain rocketing through his frame. Still, they couldn't penetrate, or stop him.

He had a vision of the soldier. Heavy black armor covered him from head to toe, looking both sleek and threatening. The man had no face. Rather, his helmet enclosed his head completely, showing a featureless sheet of black material.

Dark swung at him. His palm impacted against the rifle the man had raised, pushing it against his chest. The soldier flew away like a hand had grabbed him by the scruff and pulled him off.

Not bothering to look where he ended, Dark raced for the next.

This one kept shooting as he methodically stepped back, pelting him with a flurry of bullets that stung fiercely. Growling angrily, Dark crashed against him, the street cracking beneath his weight, shards of asphalt flying. The soldier dodged, ducking beneath his claw. Stepping forward, he pointed the rifle against Dark's chin, and pulled the trigger.

Too slow.

Dark moved his head aside and grasped for the man. One of his claws clamped around the rifle's barrel, the other around the man's neck. Ripping the weapon from the man's grasp, Dark lifted the soldier, holding him up as he watched him.

Fearing to hit their comrade, the other soldiers stopped their fire. There was a moment of pause.

Dark peered at the man in his grasp. He… no, she was panting. He could hear the wild beating of her pulse.

Even in the heavy armor, she weighed nothing. She strained against his grasp, but her efforts were feeble at best, useless all the same.

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Dark watched her. A superior breed of human, this one. Stronger, faster, braver, better armed and equipped. Still, she was nothing. Still, she was only that… only human.

So fragile, so easy to break. All it took was for him to close his hand.

Dark grinned, showing her his teeth. That little human heart beat faster, her efforts grew desperate.

The shadows sang their pretty song, joining in his amused contempt. The tophat chuckled.

Smoke erupted around him, filling the air. Blinded and surprised, Dark fumbled for a moment, then screeched when a heavy blow landed on his back. Pain surged through him, together with the sensation of burning.

He lost his grip on the soldier and fell to the ground, hand shooting to his back, which now was very much covered in burns.

The world disappeared in a grey fog. Thankfully, that meant some shadow for him.

As his back healed, he watched around wildly. That burning hurt more than bullets, more than explosions. It ran deep, pulled a visceral fear from the depths of his soul.

He heard a hiss. Without thinking, he jumped out of the way, and that was good, because the place he had been a moment later was invested by a plume of fire.

Dark couldn't stop the curse from leaving his mouth. A damn flamethrower?! These guys didn't mess around!

He planted his hand into the ground, carving into the asphalt as he stopped his momentum. He broke into a run, another plume of fire piercing the air behind his back. Hot air blew against him, sending goosebumps across his skin.

It was official. He hated fire.

He ducked, a jet of fire streaming where his head had been. In fact, he absolutely hated fire. It burned. It brought light and pushed the shadows away. And it burned him, it absolutely burned him. He hated the burn.

Loping through the smoke, he dashed toward the source of the flame. He pumped his legs as much as he could, so fast that, when the fog ended, he caught the soldier in the middle of repositioning. The small projector mounted on the man's forearm still smoked, tongues of fire licking through the muzzle.

Dark hit him in the back with a hammerblow, sending the man crumpling to the ground with a choked yell.

Another soldier emerged from the fog, shooting grenades and yelling obscenities.

Knowing better than to be hit, Dark dropped down, leaving the projectiles to pass harmlessly over his head. He pounced a moment later, smashing the assailant to the ground with his large hands.

The fog was dissipating. Turning, he saw two soldiers shoot at him. Instead of bullets though, out of their rifles came two compact-looking projectiles. They slammed open as they raced toward him, turning into nets, wide open like maws.

He wasn't fast enough. The nets slammed against him, forcing his limbs against his torso. He was struggling to get free when a soldier jumped on his back. Yelling, the woman stabbed a crackling taser into his cheek. Electricity ran through him, feeling like he was getting stabbed by a million burning needles. Screeching, he twisted and turned, but the woman wouldn't let herself be dislodged.

Furious, Dark threw himself to the ground, ripping the nets from himself as he did. The sharp movement caused the woman to lose her grip, she was flung from his back, slamming against the ground. She didn't get up, and a part of Dark, the one not furious and hurting, was almost relieved for it.

Dark was getting up when two grenades blasted him. He screamed as both concussions and flames raged over him. Gritting his teeth, he scrambled forward, so angry that he didn't even bother getting up. Moving like a gigantic spider, he dashed straight through the trio of soldiers tormenting him. The three were thrown into the air like pinballs, only to crash back down one after the other.

Panting from his wounds, Dark looked around. The fog was dissipating, but there were still enough shadows flowing toward him to heal him.

The helicopter swung above, bringing its weapons to bear. The twin gatlings under the wings started to spin.

Dark broke into a run. The asphalt behind him cratered and cracked as he ran, a torrent of bullets biting into it.

He threw himself into an alley, slamming his back against the corner, flinching a little as the brickwork was chipped by the bullets.

He panted wildly. He was burned, beaten and hurt. Thankfully, the pain was already flickering down: puddles of shadow bubbled into the alley's corners; from them, tendrils of darkness came to soothe his wounds. His heart beat like a wild beast caged inside his ribcage. His mind ran feverishly.

He couldn't stop grinning. The corners of his mouth were starting to hurt. He had never had so much fun, like… ever.

Pain fueled him. Danger exalted him. Fighting made him soar. He felt like the electricity from the taser had taken the place of his blood. Who was he kidding? He felt like the darkness he had at the place of blood was singing.

Brickwork crumbled as bullets smashed through it.

Still grinning, Dark sank his claws into the wall. Dust and pieces of bricks piled around his feet as he cut and pushed and broke. Heaving, a chunk bigger than his torso out of the wall.

Holding it up, he waddled out of the alley, ignoring the bullets ripping against his cover. He reared back and, with a triumphant shout, threw the block of masonry against the helicopter.

The pilot tried to move out of the way, but this time he wasn't fast enough. Trailing dust, the projectile flew straight against the windshield.

Dark watched it go eagerly. Would it break through the bullet-proof glass? Would it send that flying annoyance crashing against one of the buildings, careening through windows and then slamming into the street, so that it could explode merrily?

He wanted to see, he ached to see.

But he wouldn't get to.

A jet of water slammed against the piece of masonry. The brickwork resisted for a moment before the water shot straight through, crumbling it to pieces. The flying projectile crumbled into a loose cascade of shards, bricks and dust that pelted the street.

Still in the position of throwing, Dark felt the grin melt off his face.

Blinking, he lowered his gaze.

There was a strange thing there, between the overturned cars. Strange was the word there, even for him that, he believed, had his own particular brand of strange, different from what human beings considered appropriate to be labeled as such, not nearly as wide in fact.

At first, Dark thought it was some kind of giant slug. But no, he realized. What he took for the slug's body was made of water, actual flowing water, flying into the air, retaining its shape without anything to contain it.

And the shape was… he wasn't sure. He would have said snake if not for the wider, circular section behind, the one he had taken for the snail's shell.

As he watched, the wider section flattened and retracted, while the snake part thinned and got longer and longer, until it reached as high as the helicopter's blades. Beneath, ribbons of water sneaked across the asphalt, curling around cars' frames and crumbling pieces of masonry.

The water-snake-thing opened up, five tendrils of water lazily floating outward until it looked like the mouth of an anemone. And right where the mouth was supposed to be…

"TA-DA!"

…the water girl he had seen earlier.

She emerged with a spray of droplets and waving hair, more blue and more azure than the water around her, like a big splotch of color thrown over the world.

"Villains, beware!" Her voice had an enthusiastic, breathless quality to it. Her eyes sparkled like water catching the glare of the midday sun. "Acquamarine is here! You better be prepared to be washed away!"

She put her hand to her head, like a funny little salute, and winked.